


Communication

by maebyrutherford (maeberutherford)



Series: The Right Hand [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, F/M, Forgiveness, Gen, Mutual Pining, Past Infidelity, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Relationship Advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4833524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeberutherford/pseuds/maebyrutherford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Right Hand series: After the Inquisitor breaks his heart, Cullen tries to move on by serving as Cassandra’s Right Hand.</p><p>The Divine tries to help Cullen sort through his problems - positive momentum in this piece!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communication

Cullen gripped the marble railing on the balcony and looked out over the still waters of Val Royeaux. It always amazed him how glasslike it appeared at this time of day when the boats had come in to moor and the sun grew low in the sky, casting its golden rays over the city. The sensation of the unyielding stone under his gloves reminded him of the many times he’d leaned over the battlements of Skyhold, to clear his mind of lyrium cravings or to watch the Inquisitor and her companions return from a mission. The air here was balmier, better for his skin but worse for his hair.

“It’s quite beautiful, is it not?” Cassandra appeared beside him. Her hair – longer, he noted - bore the imprint of the habit she’d been wearing all day. “So peaceful.”

“Yes, and this time it’s not an illusion.”

She sighed, and he understood the meaning behind it. “I pray it lasts. We may have defeated these Disciples, but surely another threat will come along.”

“Then we shall enjoy the peace and quiet while we can.”

She smiled. “Indeed.”

They took a few moments to enjoy the view. A funny noise escaped her throat, causing him to turn his head.

“Is something the matter?” he asked. Her mouth was opening and closing ever so slightly, and her eyes were darting between him and the horizon.

“I have been wondering…how are you doing?” She cocked her head at him, her voice an octave higher than normal.

He raised a brow at her before looking back at the setting sun. “Why do you ask?”

“Cullen, we are friends, are we not?”

He turned to face her. “Of course. What is this about?”

She pressed a palm against her brow. “Ugh, why is this so difficult? I know you have been…alone since you left the Inquisition.”

He groaned. “Maker, not this.”

“Please, hear me out. You are not beholden to any vows as I am, yet you have not courted a woman since we arrived here.”

He frowned. “I’ve devoted myself to my work, just as you have.”

“And I appreciate your service, but I would not want your commitment at the expense of your personal fulfillment. I have noticed that you seem despondent, unfocused as of late. Now, I’ve been reading this book, and it says that not talking about matters that trouble you is unhealthy, for the body and mind.”

The Divine had been on a self-help kick as of late, and she seemed to have read about a solution to every type of problem imaginable.

Cullen shifted his weight. “Cassandra, if there were something wrong, and I’m not saying there is, I wouldn’t want to talk about it.”

She crossed her arms. “And why not? Is that not what friends do? Or am I nothing more than a sparring partner to you?”

He smashed his hand up and down his face. “No, that’s not what I meant at all. It’s just that men don’t really talk about this sort of thing.”

“So I was right, something is troubling you. Lucky for you, I am no man. So, talk,” she ordered.

He snorted. “Only you would order someone to disclose their feelings.”

The hard lines of her jaw softened and she reached out to squeeze his arm. “It is only because I care. It will feel good to share your burden.”

He felt closer to Cassandra than anyone, but it still felt incredibly uncomfortable to talk about things like personal feelings with her. Perhaps she was right, he had been tied in all sorts of knots since the ball, and evidently it showed. He wondered if it had affected his work and she was being too kind to say so. Maybe it _would_ help to unload, at least a little.

“Fine – but on one condition. No quoting from one of your books.”

Her perfect brows lowered over her eyes. “Deal. Now tell me what’s troubling you.”

They moved indoors to the study and sat on the lounge. Cullen proceeded to tell her everything, sticking largely with the facts. He recounted how he ran into Sylvie in Honnleath, told her about Tara’s attitude at the inn, the mini pie at the ball, their time in the garden, and her final goodbye. Cassandra listened intently, widening her eyes and gasping at certain details.

“So you just let her leave?” Cassandra asked incredulously once he was finished. “When you obviously have feelings for her?”

“Nonsense! She is – was my friend, nothing more. Sure, I was disappointed, but what could I say? She seemed to have made up her mind.”

“You could have gone after her, asked her to stay, it would have been so romantic!” she swooned. “Childhood friends, finding one another after surviving countless hardships and falling in love, it’s practically one of Varric’s books! Instead you let her slip away again. It is no wonder you’ve been brooding.”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t – I don’t brood!”

She nodded solemnly. “Yes, you do. But don’t worry; it only makes you more handsome.”

He decided to ignore that. “Well, I had plans to track her down but--” he stopped himself. Reciting facts was one thing, but he didn’t know if he could go _there_ with Cass.

She leaned forward. “But what? Something else happened, didn’t it?”

He rubbed his neck. “Well, I may have – Maker, I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you.”

She motioned for him to continue.

“Tara may have visited my chambers – uninvited, of course. But, ah, we might have…you know.” He avoided making eye contact at all costs.

Her mouth fell open. “Cullen, you did _not_! After the way she treated you?”

He stood and paced the room. “It didn’t mean anything! The last thing I need is a lecture. I know it was foolish, but it happened, and there’s nothing I can do about that now, is there?”

She held up her hands. “You’re right, I am sorry. These things happen. As long as you’re not considering going back to her.”

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “I was lonely, and she was there, and very eager. If it’s any consolation, I hated myself for it afterward. It was then I realized that Sylvie was probably right to stay away.”

“I thought you said you were just friends?” Cassandra asked coyly.

His hands shot up. “Maker, I don’t know. Perhaps there was something there. I did enjoy being with her. It felt…I felt…” he trailed off, remembering how easy it was to talk to Sylvie, how his insides stuttered just so when she smiled, how readily he laughed in the short time he had spent in her presence.

“Happy?” Cass asked softly.

Cullen examined a jeweled paper weight on the desk, turning it over in his hand. It was a striking shade of green, not unlike the hue of Sylvie’s eyes. Of _course_ it would be that color.

He set the bauble down a little too hard. “It’s useless discussing this now, it’s been six months, I’m sure she’s already forgotten about me.” He felt a pang in his stomach at the thought, which hadn’t occurred to him until just now. Damn that Cassandra, dredging up feelings he wasn’t even aware of.

“Well,” she sighed, “It’s clear what you need to do. You must reach out to Sylvie. We can get her location from Elan. Send her a letter. Tell her how you feel.”

“You think I haven’t thought of that? A man who is ready to be with another doesn’t lay with his ex-lover.” His frustration frothed over and he pressed his fists into his thighs. “There is something holding me back, and I want it gone. It’s driving me mad. It’s been years, damn it.”

Cass sounded nervous. “Cullen, I know we had a deal but…”

He acquiesced as he slumped into a nearby chair. “Go on.”

She wiggled forward in her seat. “In one of my books, they say closure is very important. Without it, it is difficult, if not impossible to move forward. You ignored the problem after we left the Inquisition, diving into your work, and now you are being forced to face it. You must decide what you need from her to close that chapter of your life, or you must forgive her entirely on your own.”

Cullen rubbed his hands on his knees. “Honestly? I’m not sure what I need. I thought it was time but that didn’t appear to work.” He stared out of the large window. “When I see Tara, even though she broke me, I still feel as if something is…unfinished.”

“Because you are stubborn. You cannot understand why your love wasn’t enough, why she did what she did, perhaps you even blame yourself. Relationships have many shades, they are complex, and you prefer dealing in black and white. Furthermore, your trust was broken and part of you wonders if you can be vulnerable with another.”

He leaned back, massaging his forehead. It was frightening how accurately she had just summed up his feelings. “How do you know all of this? From your books?”

She shrugged. “A little, but mostly observation and intuition.”

He cantered forward and planted his elbows on his thighs. “Perhaps you are right, maybe I should write Sylvie. If I can just convince her to see me again, maybe being around her will make me forget Tara.”

“No, Cullen that will not do.” Cassandra said emphatically.

His brow crinkled in confusion. “But you just said I should seek her out.”

“That was before you told me you have not truly moved on. You cannot use one woman to get over another; it is base, cruel. Clearly Sylvie is very smart and could assess the situation before even you realized it.”

“She is brilliant. Always was.” He looked at her expectantly. “So tell me, anything in those books of yours say what one should do in this situation?”

She pinched her chin in thought. “Write Tara a letter. Tell her everything you feel; your anger, your pain, even that you still find her physically attractive. Hold nothing back.”

Cullen snorted. “What good would that do? If I admit that she’ll only use it against me.”

She shook her head. “You misunderstand me. Write it, as many pages as it takes, but do not send it.”

He threw up his hands. “That makes even less sense. Where is the point in that?”

“Even imagining that the other person is reading it and seeing your feelings on paper can help a person to heal.”

“That’s preposterous. Have you ever tried it?”

She stood and walked toward the open windows. The sun was just below the horizon now, bathing the study in pale pinks and oranges. There was a wistful quality to her voice when she finally spoke.

“Yes, when Galyan died at the conclave. I had been terrible at staying in touch, and I was wracked with guilt when I heard the news. I wrote him many letters afterward. It might sound silly to you, but it helped me tremendously.”

Cullen rose slowly from his chair. “Cassandra, I…forgive me, I didn’t mean to be so dismissive. I appreciate the help, truly.”

She turned toward him. “Know this, Rutherford; you deserve better in this life, even though you may not fully believe it yet. You know the nature of our jobs; we may very well never make it to old age. Take hold of happiness whenever and wherever you can.”

His heart ached at the sound of his last name, because a beautiful curly-haired cook used to call him that.

He approached his friend and clutched her shoulder. “And what of your happiness?”

She patted his hand. “I treasure my time with Galyan, and someday I may love again, but for now my heart belongs to the Maker.”

While Cullen understood and respected her devotion, her statement filled him with such sorrow. The Divine was a lifetime appointment and they were not permitted to marry, and even having a romantic relationship was frowned upon. Still, their talk _had_ loosened some of the tangles in his soul. Someday, he vowed, he would try and return the favor.

*****

> _~~Dear Inquisitor Trevelyan~~ _
> 
> _~~Dear Inquisitor~~ _
> 
> _Tara_ _,_

He’d been sitting at his desk for the better part of an hour now, and that was as far as he’d gotten. It annoyed him to no end that he was the one having to work through this, having been the one who was betrayed; he sincerely doubted that Tara was doing the same in her quarters at Skyhold. It was entirely unfair that he was still caught up this inertia, this purgatory. Since his chat with the Divine the nights had been mostly sleepless and he decided he’d had enough. This exercise wasn’t as easy as it had seemed.

He crumpled the paper and tossed it across the room, missing the bin by a mile. Great, now my aim is slipping too, he thought. He made a mental note to work more dagger-throwing into his training repertoire. Perhaps that was the solution to his problems - he just needed to hit and stab more things more often.

There was a light rapping on the door. Quickly he pulled a tunic over his head. “Come in.”

A young page entered the room. Cullen didn’t recognize him, but that was hardly odd since there were always new faces around the Grand Cathedral. “Ser, I have a letter for you.”

He crossed the room. “Isn’t it a bit early for the mail?” Breakfast hadn’t even been served yet.

Cullen frowned and flipped the correspondence over; he didn’t recognize the handwriting or the seal, so it wasn’t from his siblings, the only people he normally received mail from. There was no return address.

“Thank you. You may go.” The boy bowed and closed the door.

Cullen sat at his desk and sliced open the envelope with his knife, unfolded the parchment within and began to read. 

> _Cullen,_
> 
> _Forgive me for the subterfuge; if I had used the Inquisition seal and my own handwriting on the envelope I fear you would have tossed this letter into the nearest hearth before reading it. I assure you my intentions are entirely different than they were the last time we saw each other._
> 
> _I’ll get right to the point because I know you would prefer it. I would like to apologize to you. For the night of the ball, for Honnleath, for Val Royeaux and everything that came before._
> 
> _You were right, you know. When we met in that café, I had just been unceremoniously dumped for – wait for it – another woman. A younger, richer, more beautiful one. In fact, I caught them going at it right in my own bed. Poetic justice, I suppose. It wasn’t really working out anyway, but that’s beside the point. When I asked you to meet, I was feeling sorry for myself and desperately lonely. Then I saw you again in Honnleath looking at that woman the same way you used to look at me, I panicked and acted horribly. I do not know if you are still in contact with her – perhaps you two are together – do give her my sincere apologies for the way I acted._
> 
> _You’re probably wondering where this is all coming from, and why now? The night of the ball, after we made love, when I heard the loathing in your voice and saw the disgust on your face, everything began to become clear. Skyhold has been quiet since we brought down the Disciples and I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my actions as the Inquisitor and as a person. I realize now how selfish I have been, that you are not always as strong as you let on, and that I was hurting you at the expense of my own desires. My whole life I have been so adept at shutting out the feelings of others and excusing my actions to suit my own narrative, but no more. You have shown me the error of my ways, unfortunately it just took much longer than it should have to see it, and you paid the price for my blindness._
> 
> _I know I betrayed your trust. I know I took advantage of you when you were struggling with so much - addiction, feelings of self worth and the tremendous guilt from Kirkwall. I’m good at a lot of things, but I have never been good at love, never felt I deserved it, especially from someone as good as you. Had I been stronger, more self-aware, I would have ended things before they got serious, but I wasn’t. In the end I sabotaged the best thing that ever happened to me because I hated myself. I don’t expect you knew that, because I was quite good at hiding the real me._
> 
> _I won’t get into the horrid details of my life before the Inquisition that I withheld from you because those are my own personal demons to deal with. You should know that that none of this was your fault._
> 
> _I am afraid I’m rambling; I am still trying to sort out all of these feelings myself. Cullen, I do not seek forgiveness from you, nor do I expect anything to come of this letter. In fact, it is entirely possible I may never see you again. A formal announcement will be made soon, but you can be the first to know that I have decided to disband the Inquisition. We have more than accomplished our goals and our time has come to an end. The fate of Orlais and Ferelden is in capable hands with Cassandra, King Alistair and Empress Celene. I have been gifted a few plots of land in the Free Marches, I think after this it’s the quiet life for me. Strange, right? I think I’ve had enough adventures for several lifetimes. I hear dual-wielding rogues make excellent knitters. Maybe I’ll even get a mabari._
> 
> _My only request of you is that you find true happiness with someone you love, who treats you much better than I did, whether it’s the woman from Honnleath or someone else. I won’t lie, it is painful for me to truly accept that we are finished, and I will always love you, but I think I can finally let you go._
> 
> _Live well,_
> 
> _Tara Trevelyan_
> 
> _P.S.  In the spirit of honesty, you should know that the lad who delivered this to you is an Inquisition agent. Please don’t be angry, I only wanted to make sure you received it, nothing more. He’s a good boy from a poor family and really needs this job, so if you can avoid calling the honor guard on him, you’d have my gratitude._

Cullen read the letter several times over before he slumped back in his chair and dragged his fingertips across his clenched eyelids. Everything about it was foreign to him, so forthcoming. It was still slightly manipulative – she had to have known he would wonder what she meant by “horrid details”, and the idea of her retiring with knitting needles and a dog was absurd – but still, it offered some validation. No more Inquisition? That was a revelation he’d have to unpack later, since the implications of such a move were many. Of course she would sneak an agent in just to deliver it, but he supposed people didn’t completely change overnight.

He slid the letter into his desk drawer and sat in solitude with nothing but the sound of the rustling tree outside the open window occasionally tickling his ear. An idea came to him, just as it had again and again since the night of the ball, only this time he didn’t talk himself out of it.

Without bothering to don his armor, he set out to find the Left Hand.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, now we can breathe a little. This was a longer than I wanted it but I needed to get things moving so we can get to more exciting developments. And thanks so much to those of you who are enjoying my little series, I truly love writing it. As always, comments welcome and encouraged!


End file.
